Chapter 13
13
C apri hated going to the bank. In fact, there was a myriad of mundane business chores associated with running Grand Teton Whitewater Adventures that she detested. Keeping books, tax preparation, marketing…those activities were as dull as dishwater.
Her passion was the local rivers and battling their powerful currents. Even more, she loved sharing the adventure with her customers and seeing them discover their own strength and tenacity. Every rapid they mastered not only boosted their confidence but also deepened their appreciation for the untamed beauty and formidable power of the Class II and III rapids on the Snake River and the renowned Hoback—waterways celebrated by whitewater enthusiasts far and wide.
Unfortunately, that exhilaration was tempered with this other stuff. When you were a business owner, some tasks simply landed on your plate and had to be done.
Capri pushed open the heavy, glass door of Thunder Mountain Savings and Loan, a quaint bank nestled in the heart of their small mountain town. Inside, the interior smelled faintly of pine and old paper, a testament to its rustic charm. Wooden beams supported the ceiling, and the walls were adorned with historic black and white photos of the town. Across the lobby, a few elderly locals were seated in creaky chairs, filling out deposit slips with slow, careful strokes.
She spotted Wooster Cavendish, the bank manager, a portly man with a perpetually loosened tie at his collar, standing behind a polished pine wood counter, shuffling papers. “Morning, Wooster!” Capri called out as she passed.
Wooster looked up, his expression softening into a smile. “Ah, Capri! Good to see you. Trust the river’s been kind this season?”
“Never better!” she replied, heading towards the teller windows.
Thelma DeRosier peered at her from behind thick, coke-bottle glasses that magnified her eyes to almost comical proportions. “Hello, Capri, how are you?” Thelma’s voice was warm, but she squinted, struggling to focus on Capri’s face.
“Hey, Thelma.” Capri slid her deposit bag across the counter. “You’re gonna need to count this twice, Thelma. I wouldn’t want your glasses playing tricks on you again.”
“Now, don’t you worry, I’ve got my eyes on these bills.” Thelma chuckled, a good-natured sound, and started counting the money with exaggerated care.
Capri waited patiently, listening to the soft rustling of paper and the tick of an old clock on the wall, as Thelma painstakingly verified Capri’s deposit, ensuring not a single dollar was amiss.
With receipt in hand, Capri thanked Thelma and turned for the door. Before she could reach for the handle, Nicola Cavendish appeared on the other side of the glass. She pushed open the door and immediately clamped onto Capri’s elbow. “You were just the person I’d hoped to see this morning.”
“Me? Why?”
“Have you heard?” A smug look blanketed the woman’s features.
Capri dreaded asking. “Apparently not. What’s up?”
Nicola shook her head in an exaggerated manner. “Doc Tillman is retiring. He and Winnie are packing up their house and moving to Florida to be near their son and his family.”
“What?” Carol Deegan, who was sitting nearby at her desk, lifted from her chair and scurried over to join them. “Surely he’s not closing down the clinic.”
Capri’s face broke into a smile. “No. I bet he’s going to ask Lila to take over.”
Nicola lifted her eyebrows. “That’s the big news. He’s handed over his practice to some guy from Texas. His name is Whit Calloway.”
Capri’s expression hardened. “Are you kidding me?”
Nicola swung her designer purse. “No. The clinic has a new owner.”
Capri didn’t bother to say another word. She turned and bolted out the door.
Minutes later she was at Reva’s office door after ignoring Verna Billingsley’s waving arms and warning that her boss was on the phone. Without bothering to knock, Capri pushed her way inside.
Reva looked up from her Zoom call, surprised.
Capri frantically motioned for her to hang up.
“Look, guys.” She kept her eyes trained on Capri. “Something’s come up. I need to go. I’ll have Verna call you to reschedule.” She pushed a button on her keyboard and the monitor went blank.
“This better be important,” she told Capri.
“Get your purse,” Capri demanded. “We’re heading to Lila’s. And if she’s not there, we’ll find her.”
Worry crossed Reva’s face. “Why? What’s going on?”
Capri quickly filled her in. “I’ll take my truck. You take your car. And call Charlie Grace.”
Lila lived on the outskirts of town in a modest raw wood cabin nestled in pine trees. The covered front porch was adorned with two wicker chairs and pots of fading geraniums and sunflowers. A knit afghan was draped over the back of one of the chairs and an open book and an empty teacup rested on the nearby table.
Capri sprinted up the two steps and pounded on the door. Reva and Charlie Grace were both pulling in at the same time.
As they scrambled from their vehicles, Capri pounded again. She looked back at the girls and shook her head.
Reva stepped around her and pushed open the door. “Lila? Are you in there?”
“Her car’s in the driveway,” Charlie Grace reported. “She must be here.”
Together they marched down the hallway to the door leading into their friend’s bedroom. Reva lightly rapped. “Lila?”
“Go away,” came a muffled answer.
The girls glanced between one another. Capri nodded and Reva turned the knob and gently pushed the door open.
They found Lila face down on the bed.
“Oh, honey,” Reva said and immediately went to her side. She sat on the bed and patted her friend’s back.
Capri parked her hands on her hips. “So, it’s true then. Doc Tillman should be strung up and?—”
Charlie Grace frowned at her. “Not helpful.” She moved to the other side of the bed and sat next to her friend. “We’re here for you, Lila.”
Capri nearly growled. “I’ll be back later.”
Reva and Charlie Grace turned their attention her direction. “Where are you going?” Reva asked.
“To take care of some business.”
Without waiting for either of them to interrogate her further, she charged out the door.